Witch Fury

SEVEN

SHE LOOKED UP AT HIM, RECOGNITION BLOOMING. RED eyes. . killing rage. That’s what the red eyes meant, right? Right? She couldn’t answer, couldn’t move. Terror and pain had frozen her in place.

Her thoughts came in quick succession. Demon. The same demon that had visited her at the farmhouse. There was a demon in the room and she was going to die.

Grosset grabbed the demon’s pant cuff and shook it, growling. The demon’s massive red-eyed head swung toward the dog and he jerked his leg, sending Grosset flying. The little dog hit something and yelped.

Fury exploded through her. “You bastard!” She lunged across the floor, grabbed the baseball bat, and rolled to her feet. Giving a battle cry that came somewhere from the very depths of her body, she swung the bat with all her strength at the demon’s head. This time she connected with a satisfying thump that sent the demon careening sideways into the wall.

“Bai? Is that your name? Don’t ever, ever touch my dog!” She drew back to hit the demon again, but a hand grabbed it before she could swing. Sarafina looked behind her to see Theo, who grunted at her and stalked toward the demon. Theo’s magick rose in the room, making the hair all along her body rise. The scent of freshly turned earth filled the air.

The demon pushed away from the wall with an animalistic bellow and turned his attention to the earth witch. Theo pushed her to the side and stepped toward him. Ordinarily, she might have been miffed, but in this case, if Theo wanted to fight the demon, it was her pleasure to be pushed aside. He could go for it.

Sarafina ran to the corner of the room and scooped a cowering Grosset into her arms. He immediately licked her face and she sighed in relief that the little dog was all right.

Magick exploded around her for the second time in two days. The bitter scent of demon magick burned her nose, mingling with the earth power Theo wielded. The demon blasted a hole in her wall in an effort to hit Theo, who’d leapt out of the way. Smoke filled the room and made her cough. Her night table exploded, along with her bookshelf, making it rain paperbacks and the occasional hardcover.

A mound of earth doused the fire that had erupted from the burst of demon magick. In front of her the floor churned to a soil-like consistency and swallowed the demon whole.

Eyes wide and mouth agape, she stared at Theo over the mound.

“Go!” he commanded. “Get to the Coven. Now!” She went. Holding Grosset close to her, she dodged the odd grave in the center of her bedroom and dashed out the front door of her place just as the mound exploded in the bedroom and the demon roared his disapproval.

Sarafina raced down the stairs, wondering just how long it would be before her neighbors woke up and discovered the battle of titans going on her apartment. Or the floor turned to mush. How was she going to explain that to her landlord?

She kept an extra key in a holder hidden in the wheel well of her car. Holding Grosset in one arm, she found it and extracted it with shaking fingers. Across the street flashes of light burst from the windows of her apartment. She’d lose her lease and never get her deposit back at this point. The thought made crazy-sounding, nervous laughter bubble up.

As if losing her lease was her biggest worry.

Once in the car, she put Grosset on the passenger seat, jammed the key in the ignition, and took off with the tires squealing.

As soon as she got to the Coven she’d go to Thomas Monahan and send help to Theo. She only hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

* * *

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? WHY WOULD AN Atrika go after you like that?” “Oh, goodie, I get to be special again. First I’m special to the head warlock and now a demon wants to cuddle with me in the middle of the night.” Sarafina dabbed a Q-tip covered in disinfectant over a nasty scratch on Theo’s face. He winced and she blew across it. Poor big baby. “This guy, Bai, asked for me by name.” Theo had come back to the Coven about an hour after she’d hightailed it there and sent some witches to aid him. She’d come into the dark, quiet Coven screaming for help, since she hadn’t known where to find anyone of importance. Thomas, Jack, and Claire had helped Theo drive the demon off.

Grosset was uninjured. It seemed he’d hit the mattress of her bed, not the wall. Now he was fed, watered, petted, and amply cuddled and curled up on Theo’s couch, fast asleep.

Theo rubbed his chin. “I guess this means what we’d suspected is true. Somehow the Duskoff have found a way to ally with the Atrika. I’d bet anything that demon was running an errand for Stefan.” “Uh, from what I read in Micah’s book, an Atrika wouldn’t be anyone’s errand boy.” “Something is drawing them together. The law of averages is against both the Duskoff and the Atrika taking a special interest in you at the same time.” “I really wish I were less interesting.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s only a couple hours until morning. The rest of the Coven might be able to make sense out of some of this.” “Have I said thank you yet?”

“You looked like you were doing a pretty good job before I got there.” She snorted. “That was a lucky shot.” “Took guts.”

Lifting a shoulder, she said, “He made me mad.” “Remind me never to do that.”

She held a bottle of disinfectant in one hand and a bag of cotton balls in the other. She glanced pointedly at his ripped and bloody shirt. “Take it off.” He gazed past her while he pulled the garment over his head and tossed it on the coffee table, looking far away in Musing Land. Suddenly, Sarafina was all there, though, momentarily struck dumb by the confusing, alluring, beautiful expanse of his body.

The first thing she noticed were the tattoos. They covered his arms, shoulders, chest, and back in swirling and swooping black tribal designs. Underneath those, or meshing with them, really, were scars — thin, white, raised ridges of flesh. Perhaps once they’d been wounds made with a knife? Maybe even a whip. The scars dovetailed with the tattoos, flirted and danced with them. The effect was clearly deliberate and oddly beautiful.

The second thing she noticed were the muscles. The sheer physical strength displayed in his upper body was as breathtaking as the tattoos. She allowed her gaze to travel the sculpted gorgeousness, every dip, curve, mountain, and valley. This was a man who took care of himself, who worked out on a daily basis and had a body fit for any male modeling job, scarring be damned.

His gaze was now centered on her and his face wore an expression of challenge. “Got a problem?” Sarafina blinked and cleared her throat. “Problem? No, no problem. Your body is just, just—” “Scarred? Disfigured? Disgusting? Pick an adjective.” “God, no, you’re gorgeous!” she blurted and immediately wished to call the words back into her mouth. “I mean, the tattoos are very well done.” “Thanks.”

She busied herself squirting some of the antiseptic onto a cotton ball. Not only was his chest decorated with ink, he had a couple of nasty gashes that needed attending. “Did you do them?” “Yeah. I had help for the places I couldn’t reach, but I did a lot of it.” “That’s crazy.”

“I do them for lots of the earth witches here, and some of the others who just want them for aesthetic reasons.” He paused. “Why? You want one?” She smiled. “Too late. Got one already.” He lifted his brows.

“You’ll never see it, buddy.” She grinned and swiped a drenched cotton ball over a gash.

He yelped.

“Sorry. Considering you just fought a demon, you’re really kind of being a wimp about this.” He only glared at her in response.

“How’d you get past the warding on my apartment, anyway?” “I created them, Sarafina, that means I can break them.” Of course. Duh. She mentally slapped her forehead. “So you were watching my place? Sitting out there on the street, monitoring me?” “Yeah.”

That was a little creepy. “So, I guess you still think I’m a bad guy.” He didn’t answer for a moment. “No. Not after tonight. I was watching you to see if—” She nodded, anger prickling through her. “You were using me as bait, weren’t you? To see if Stefan showed up again.” “Yeah, there was that,” he answered with a one-shouldered shrug. “But it was also to make sure you stayed safe. Scout’s honor.” Her lips twisted. “Somehow I can’t see you as a Boy Scout, Theo.” “Got me there. I never was.”

“I don’t want to even know what my apartment looks like after that battle. Is my landlord going to sue me for damages to his property?” Theo shook his head. “It’s taken care of. I used earth magick to clean it all up. Almost looks good as new. It’s a little messy, but there’s nothing your landlord will sue you over. I even put up a sound barrier around the place so you won’t get any complaints about the noise.” “Wow. Thank you.”

“It’s standard operating procedure. The Coven doesn’t need non-magickals asking too many questions. We’re better off left to myth and Hollywood where they’re concerned.” He winced again as she swiped more disinfectant over a gash.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know healing is a part of fire magick,” he gritted out. “It hurts a fuck of a lot less than antiseptic.” “So I read in the handy-dandy witch handbook. However, I’m not even close to trying that out.” “Why not? You’re going to have to learn sometime. Might as well be now.” “Are you qualified to teach me this lesson?” He grabbed her wrists and she jumped a little, startled. His fingers were warm on her skin and his dark, intense gaze drilled into her. “Just find your seat, be one with it, and it will flow naturally. There’s nothing to it once you find acceptance of your power. Doesn’t matter you’re coming to it late in life.” He forced her seat to warmth, made her feel the pulse of power that dwelt within her.

Her lips parted a little and her warm breath trickled over him. There was an energy between them. Something hot and fierce. Something that had nothing to do with the way he was currently manipulating her seat.

Theo felt. . dangerous to her.

She suppressed a nervous laugh. “That’s very Zen of you.” He shrugged and released her hands. The little pulse of magick between her breasts died. “Everyone’s always training, teaching. It’s not necessary. Those skills are already a part of you. Natural. Organic. All you have to do is tap them.” “What if I burn the hell out of you in the meantime?” His full lips twisted. “You think my body can’t take a few more scars?” “I actually didn’t mean that wimp comment. I think you can take anything.” “Enough.” He grabbed her hand and placed it over one of the gashes on his chest. She fought the urge to euuuw out loud. “Now close your eyes, tap your seat, and concentrate on healing.” “Okay.” She did as he asked.

It was the same thing they’d shown her how to do at the farmhouse during those first terrifying twenty-four hours. She took some deep, even breaths and concentrated on the space between her breasts. The area warmed a little and began to tingle once she’d located it. The warmth spread down her arms, jumped between her fingers with little electric shots that she concentrated on keeping from Theo’s skin.

He was right. She could do this; it was a part of her. This was her, the part of her that had always been missing up until now. Now she was whole and it felt good.

The tingling warmth down her arms and jumping between her fingers gradually relaxed into a manageable heat, something that almost felt moldable. Instinctively, she directed it at the gash her palm covered.

Theo flinched and she pulled back a little, allowing him to once again settle against her hand. This time she regulated the heat better, concentrating on making magickal tendrils of a therapeutic nature, instead of a burning one. She allowed curative waves to sink into the injured flesh of his wound, promoting healing and knitting it back together.

Under her fingers the wound shifted and smoothed, the edges of the gashes coming together. The heat coming down her arm eased and she sensed she’d given all she could give.

Only by that time she was long gone, lost in the concentration it took to maintain the heat. Her breathing came deep and steady, keeping time with her heartbeat. She was slipping farther and farther away. .

Theo took her hand in his, his thumb rubbing the underside of her wrist. Her eyes came open slowly; they’d rolled all the way back in her head like she was in meditation. She focused on his face.

Theo continued to hold her hand and now her gaze, too. He had really beautiful eyes, a rich dark brown like the most sinful chocolate. The slow stroke of his thumb on her sensitive skin made bad things — or good things, depending on one’s perspective — happen lower in her body. She couldn’t bring herself to pull her hand away or to rip her gaze from his.

He released her hand. “All right?”

She blinked and came out of her trance like she’d been freed from a witch’s spell. . funny thought, that. She only nodded in response.

Theo looked down at his gash. “Incredible. I don’t think it will even leave a scar,” he murmured. “Weren’t we just talking about natural skill? It appears you have a lot in the realm of healing.” Sarafina focused on his wound and gasped. His gash was almost completely healed. She jerked her hand away and stepped backward. “I did that? Fire magick can do that?” Theo studied the pinkish mark. “I’ll be honest, that’s a little beyond the ordinary scope. How do you feel?” “Drained.”

He grunted. “You expended a lot of power to accomplish this.” “What else can fire magick do?”

“All witches have their specialties. You’ll have to find yours.” “Okay, but what else can fire do?” Theo grinned. “Burn things. Explode things. It’s a great weapon.” He paused. “But I think maybe we just found out why you’re special, Sarafina.”

HOW TO CONTROL THE ATRIKA. NOW, THAT WAS A DILEMMA.

Stefan had thought that holding the thing they wanted most over their heads would compel their obedience. And, for the most part, the leverage he possessed had been effective.

For the most part.

Ironically, the Atrika couldn’t control their emotions very well. . or their libidos, it seemed. One would think such a killing machine would have no emotions, or their emotions would run icy and remorseless. Yet the heart of an Atrika beat wild and fierce, their emotions hot and strong. In a way they were like children, acting always from the id.

It made it damn hard to control them and Stefan had been working too long and come too far to allow Bai’s dick to screw it up.

“What should we do with the recalcitrant demon, sir?” asked David, a lanky water warlock. He looked so innocent, David did, so. . geeky. Yet David would slit your throat for a twenty-dollar bill. Stefan loved that about him.

David had been on his father’s staff. He’d been there the day William Crane had been pushed out the forty-story window of Duskoff International in New York City by Mira Hoskins, that little bitch of an air witch. He’d also been there when Isabelle Novak had caught Stefan by the balls — literally — a couple years ago. Both times David had escaped. He had a knack for survival, just like Stefan did.

“What to do with a recalcitrant demon? Oui, a question for the ages.” Stefan sighed and drummed his fingers on the boardroom table of Duskoff International and stared out the window where his father had fallen to his death. Just being in this room made rage boil the seat of his magick, made it shoot through his limbs like he was about to explode.

It made Stefan feel very motivated.

Thomas Monahan and his organization of weak do gooders had killed his father. He’d told them he’d make them pay and he would.

“Didn’t Boyle give you any tips for how to control an Atrika?” “Boyle told me many things, but how to bring an Atrika to heel was not among them. That daaeman was loyal to his people.” “Of course, sir, silly of me to think he would reveal such secrets.” “Oui. How is the air witch?” “Weak. She is depressingly fragile.” “We’re done with her. If you can’t break her to our cause, kill her.” “We cannot bring her to the Duskoff, sir. It seems she’s too cemented in her former life and lacks our aspirations.” David rolled his eyes. “She’s constantly crying for her husband and child. It’s annoying.” Stefan waved a hand. “Then do with her as you wish and dump the body when you’re done. We don’t need her anymore.” “Yes, sir.” David turned to leave.

“And send Bai to me. All I can do is try and reason with him. He’s already tipped our hand.” “Right away.”

It took Bai a long time to answer his summons. Long enough for Stefan to down two glasses of Scotch and become even more agitated. However, even though he had leverage over the demon, Stefan wasn’t dumb. You didn’t push an Atrika and expect to keep your head, leverage or not.

The demon entered and Stefan studied him for a moment over the rim of his glass. All the daaeman, regardless of breed, were tall and muscular. Physically intimidating. All of them — all that he’d seen, at least — were also good-looking in human terms. The Atrika were especially beautiful. Chiseled features, handsome faces. He’d never seen a female demon, but reportedly they were also attractive.

Stefan supposed their good looks had helped to lure women — and men — way back in ancient times to mate with them. It was a sort of weapon, built into their DNA. Perhaps he should be grateful, since it was those couplings, with a little magickal help, that had produced elemental witches. It was the daaeman from which all witches sprang.

Those randy daaeman.

“I don’t enjoy answering when you call,” Bai said, first thing. His voice was thick with the sharp, blunt syllables of the accent common to the demons. “Like a common mongrel.” Bai was one of the few who spoke English well. That was why Stefan put up with him and all his demands.

Stefan’s hand tightened on his glass and he forced himself to release his grip. “Et merde. J’en ai assez,” he murmured to himself. “I’m sorry, my lord demon, but we need to have a conversation about your rash interaction with the woman, Sarafina Connell.” Bai’s face relaxed a degree, his jaw unlocking and his thick lips parting a little. “Sarafina? What of her?” “The agreement was that you could have her after you finished your task. You have not yet finished your task, therefore you cannot have her yet. Do you not recall the agreement, or is there some reason you cannot comprehend it?” Bai shifted and his eyes flashed red. Most demon’s eyes only went red when they were about to go on a killing rampage. Bai’s eyes went red whenever his emotions got the better of him and that seemed most of the time. Bai was an especially dangerous demon. “That was the agreement before you lost her.” “I didn’t lose her.” “You miscalculated the factors related to her induction.” “No, I was perfectly correct to assume her history would make her a good candidate for us. Without the meddling of the Coven and with a little more time, I feel sure I could’ve won her to our cause.” His jaw locked as he thought of the raid on the farmhouse. “But I know exactly where she is and when this is all over, she will be yours. Until then, no contact.” “Do not give me orders.” Bai’s eyes flashed red again and Stefan’s breath choked in his throat for a moment.

For a moment he almost took a step back, away from the demon who had been denied his candy, but retreating would make him appear weak. And that would be suicide.

Bai bared his teeth, now pointy and sharp, a mouth full of fangs. “You are making an error. I care not for anything but Sarafina. She is mine whenever I decide to take her.” He jumped from the room — in that eerie way they had of bending space to travel between two points — and Stefan was alone.